


Blood and Gold

by kiranightshade



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood moon, Fae Stiles Stilinski, Full Shift Werewolves, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 06:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12006981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiranightshade/pseuds/kiranightshade
Summary: It's nights such as these that Peter can pretend that he's free.





	Blood and Gold

The ground is soft under Peter’s paws as he runs in time to the life of the forest. The blood in his veins doesn’t feel like his own on nights like these. With the full moon high in the sky, the creatures of the forest are awake in anticipation. This is no ordinary moon and Peter revels in it. 

Tonight, the threat of abandonment and omega status doesn’t feel so heavy as his wolf runs. Chasing prey animals feels more like a dance tonight, rather than a potential meal.

Peter feels the earth’s pulse grow stronger as the moonlight tints red. He feels his own answer in turn. His strides become longer, more graceful, as the blood moon enhances his senses, as it does all creatures of magic. 

Music sounds and makes Peter’s ears twitch. This far deep in the woods, Peter can think of few to be the source and none he’d wish to encounter. Except, he doesn’t think he’s ever heard music such as this in his life and the thought sparks enough curiosity to change course. 

The man is alone and is weaving his way through his clearing with a sense of self that is only found in one species. His skin glows or perhaps he is simply reflecting the moon shining down on them. There is no discernable source of the music, but Peter doesn’t expect to find one now. 

Despite the fluidity of the man’s dance, it is still something wild and free. Unrestrained and all the more powerful for it.

And yet, despite the man’s nature and everything Peter has ever been taught, he is not afraid. He feels no need to slip away before he is noticed. In fact, he finds the only thing he wants to do is step forward, into the man’s clearing, into the man’s world.

The man’s eyes open exactly in time to lock Peter in his gaze. Instead of annoyance for being found, he smiles and Peter knows he’s not only been seen, but recognized.

A hand reaches out. Peter’s breath catches at the invitation. 

His form twist seamlessly as he crosses the threshold and places his fate into the man’s hands. He feels nothing as his bones bend back into his partially shifted shape. His power does not shift with his body. Whether that is the moon or the man, Peter does not know. 

As soon as he is entirely in the clearing, the man is suddenly much closer than he was before. Peter finds himself looking up to him, kneeling before him. He finds it doesn’t stifle like it has in the past. It feels right in a way it has never felt before. 

He reaches out to him, sliding their palms together and rejoicing in the feel of nimble fingers curling into his. His claws are leaner, precise in a way that knows where to strike to cause the most damage. His feel clunky and blunt is comparison. 

He’s led to his feet where he still must tilt his head up to meet his eyes. They shine, though far more subtly than his own. Peter always thought his eyes looked remarkably beta-like. He always considered it a sign that he was meant to be his. He can understand the laughter, soft as it was, that graced his ears back then. 

The man tangles their fingers together and holds their arms out to the side. His smile is soft, but his teeth are sharp and Peter has the sudden desire to feel them against his throat. By the look in his eyes, the man knows. 

He slips an arm around his waist as he steps closer, close enough to whisper directly into his ear as if to speak loudly would shatter the very air they breathe. 

“Dance with me?” 

Peter lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. In answer, he wraps his around the back of his shoulder. 

A chuckle sounds through the clearing and it feels sweet as the tilt of his head leaves Peter’s nose brushing the hair by his ear. 

The music grows louder, much more prominent than it was before, and Stiles leads with the grace Peter always knew him capable of.


End file.
